My house is buried in the deepest recess of the forest, every year ivy vines grow longer than the year before. Undisturbed by the affairs of the world I live at ease, woodmen’s singing rarely reaching me through the trees.
While the sun stays in the sky, I mend my torn clothes and facing the moon, I read books aloud to myself. Let me drop a word of advice for believers of my faith.
To enjoy life’s immensity, you do not need many things.